


Make-up on his dress

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drag Queens, F/M, Humor, Smut, basically I just wanted to write Cas in a blue sequin dress fucking Meg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3651021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tried not to flinch visibly at the snick-screech sound of the tape roll as Gabriel advanced on him again. Lucifer was smirking at them from across the dressing room where he sat in front of the mirror, applying complicated and artful layers of make up. Castiel was never going to let his brother near his genitalia with a roll of tape ever again in his life. He should have never allowed himself to be in a situation where that sentence would even cross his mind in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make-up on his dress

Castiel was having very violent, very untoward, thoughts about his brothers.

Well, about two of them in particular. Perhaps, technically about a third as well, who was absent. Which had been the problem in the first place.

He tried not to flinch visibly at the snick-screech sound of the tape roll as Gabriel advanced on him again. Lucifer was smirking at them from across the dressing room where he sat in front of the mirror, applying complicated and artful layers of make up.

Castiel was never going to let his brother near his genitalia with a roll of tape ever again in his life. He should have never allowed himself to be in a situation where that sentence would even cross his mind in the first place.

"Is it really necessary to be tucked?"

"Gotta get that stream line figure."

Lucifer pouted and batted his eye lashes. “Darling, you’re going to look ravishing when we’re done with you.”

It wasn’t that he had anything against drag queens. He made the dresses his brothers wore, from scratch, tailoring them to accentuate narrow hips and accommodate broad shoulders. Gabriel said no one could make a ‘swishy’ skirt like Castiel could. And it wasn’t as though Castiel minded wearing skirts himself. But all the pomp and circumstance of putting on a drag show, the layers of makeup, glued on eyelashes, wigs, tight fitting dresses, getting his genitals taped up and back between his legs by his brother - Castiel was certain he was never going to repeat this process ever again.

"Balthazar is never allowed to get sick on a show night again."

Lucifer huffed, “Our poor brother is suffering and you can think of no one but yourself.”

Castiel glared at him. Lucifer continued dabbing brushes and foam pads in a myriad of bottles and jars, layering his face with practiced, swift movements. Castiel fidgeted, snapping the waist of the soft cotton underwear that was the only thing between his sensitive equipment and the tape. Gabriel stepped back, patting his hip, assessing.

"There, that ought to do you good. Why don’t you shimmy on in to your panty hose and shapewear, and I’ll help you with your tits."

Castiel sighed and nodded, accepting the articles from Gabriel and moving to one of the small stools by the mirror. Rolling up the panty hose like he’d seen his brothers doing numerous times, he tried to pull them up his legs smoothly and neatly but they still bunched and wrinkled. He was careful with the delicate material, plucking it gently in pinched fingers while avoiding using his nails.

Gabriel had already painted his nails with a light blue metallic color. Castiel quite liked it, and decided to keep it on for the week.

Castiel had done everything he could think of on such short notice when Balthazar had caught strep two days before the show. He had waxed his legs, his chest, his underarms. He had even plucked his eyebrows, with a questionable amount of success. Still, Lucifer and Gabriel found numerous things to primp and preen and fuss about.

"Have I ever told you that you have magnificent cheekbones?"

Castiel blinked, unable to reply anyway because Lucifer was applying his lipstick. Gabriel was wiggling in to his tight gold dress, make up finished, modest fake breasts jiggling in his bra.

"It’s just unfair isn’t it? The prettiest one doesn’t want to be a drag queen."

"I don’t think I can feel my scrotum anymore."

Castiel tried not to look too petulant as he shifted in his seat. The shape wear pinched in his waist and constricted his breathing, pushing what little fat he had down to pad his hips. It was actually surprisingly effective. And extremely uncomfortable. The things that he did for his brothers.

Gabriel ruffled his hair, Lucifer scowling at the two of them to be still so he could finish Castiel’s make up. “They’ll still be there at the end of the night. Are we going with the bob cut wig?”

Lucifer answered for him. “Definitely.”

As the eldest brother hooked a finger under his chin and moved his head side to side, making minor adjustments, Gabriel flitted around the room and came back with a sleek black bob cut wig. He worked faster than Castiel could keep track of, pinning and tucking and pulling at his hair until the wig was affixed quite firmly. Castiel felt as though his entire scalp had been pulled back tight over his skull.

He fetched his dress from the rack, a blue sequined one that was Balthazar’s which he’d made a few quick alterations to so it would fit his figure better. Slipping it up and reaching behind himself to pull up the zipper, Castiel regarded himself in the mirror. He could barely recognize his reflection. Tucking the black hair behind his ear, he smoothed his palm over the scratchy sequins. He really was flat in the front where he shouldn’t be, although the breasts that Gabriel set him up with were larger than he deemed necessary.

The dress was tight and draped down to the floor, a slit running up the right leg nearly to his hip, the sequins dazzling bright under any light and a lovely cerulean shade of blue. The dress went all the way up to his neck, but the material was loose and draped down in ripples to expose his collar bone. His arms were bare.

The end product of his brother’s hard work was quite astounding he had to admit.

Holding on to the dresser, he pushed his feet into the heels they gave him. They were what Castiel would call dangerously high heels, but his brothers called them ‘modest’. Gabriel and Lucifer finished dressing as Castiel practiced walking.

He was looking down, focused on his feet, when he heard two soft gasps behind him. Turning around, he saw Lucifer twirling in the new dress that Castiel had finished for him just last weekend. It had been a scramble to finish, with the other work he had to do for his day job making costumes for the Weathervane theatre, but Lucifer wanted this dress for this show tonight so Castiel made it happen.

The loose curled blond wig Lucifer wore tumbled over his shoulders, sliding on the smooth fabric of the dress. Layers on layers of sheer, silk, and lace materials shifted with gossamer grace as he moved, colors fading from saturated neon to soft pastel pinks, twisting and clinging to his body.

"Oh brother, you outdid yourself."

Gabriel waved a hand in front of his face, unwilling to touch his pristine make up. “Oh Luci, if you weren’t my sister I’d take you home.”

Castiel smiled. “You look lovely.”

Lucifer dipped in a curtsey, hands smoothing down his skirts. “Well, it looks like we’re all ready?”

Castiel adjusted the collar of his dress, nudging his breasts and trying to get used to the feeling of having something protruding there. “I’m really not sure I should be singing much.”

Gabriel, tying the straps of his high heels on, nearly fell over when he waved at Castiel. “Nonsense, you’ve got a great voice.”

"But I can’t make it high pitched like you. I’m not practiced."

"Just sing in your normal voice."

"Are you sure?"

Lucifer came over and fussed with his hair. “It can actually be quite sexy for someone so feminine to have a very definitive masculine feature.”

"And yet you wouldn’t let me get dressed un-tucked.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and sighed, “It’s about the lines babe. You’ll sound fine. You’re too hot for anyone to care anyway.”

Castiel took a deep breathe, although he couldn’t breathe very well in the tight dress and nodded, following his brothers out of the dressing room.

-

Meg leaned against the bar while she ordered another drink. The club Ruby took her to was actually pretty nice, fairly upscale. There was a lot of chrome and fancy glass lights, nice seating arrangements in front of the stage where the show would be. It had been ages since Meg had been to a drag show. As a matter of fact, she’s pretty sure the last one she went to was with Ruby too.

Well, that’ll happen when your best friend’s boyfriend was dating a drag queen. Ruby and Sam - and Luci - had a weird relationship. Complicated. Meg could understand it. She’d never really had a threeway relationship with anyone, but she didn’t tend to stick around with one person long enough to really develop any relationships.

All she really wanted to do tonight was get shit faced and ogle pretty boys in dresses. She was too stressed out, working three different jobs to make ends meet. And the one job that she used to love, doing makeup for the Weathervane theatre group, was slowly devolving into a nightmare. All thanks to a jackass of a seamstress.

Clarence was as much of a fucking diva as the actors, even though he worked back stage. Hell he was probably worse. Last weekend he’d raised a bitch fit about Meg’s make up running and smudging too much, saying it was staining his delicate costumes. Not like she had the budget for high end cosmetics. They had to deal with what they had to deal with. And she didn’t need his shitty attitude making it worse.

His constant bickering wasn’t even the worst thing. Meg actually enjoyed a certain amount of bickering, she could be very argumentative herself and appreciated a challenge. He was just really fucking hot and really fucking self righteous, stick up his ass, condescending ten pounds of jackass in a five pound sack.

It was frustrating. On so many levels.

Tipping the barman, Meg picked up her drink and made her way to the table that Ruby and Sam had claimed. She’d already had a few cocktails, and was feeling pleasantly loose when she settled back in one of the comfortable plush upholstered chairs. Crossing one leg over the other, black heels laced with straps up to her knees, Meg tugged her little black dress down her thighs. Ruby was currently sucking on Sam’s face.

The lights flicked and an announcer came on over the speakers. 

_Ladies and gentleman, welcome and thank you for coming out to the Innerbelt tonight. Have we got a show in store for you. I’m sure you’re all familiar with our favorite drag queen, the lovely Luci, who will be leading a trio show tonight. She’ll be joined by Gabby, that adorable little minx, who we’ll hopefully get to see more of around here. Unfortunately, Bailey is out sick, let’s all think happy thoughts her way. But tonight, for the first time ever to grace our stages, is the lovely Cassie. She’s worked backstage on these shows for some time now, and is finally stepping up to the light. Everyone give a warm welcome!_

The lights flared up as three drag queens strutted out on stage and Meg recognized the strains of an Adele song starting up. She recognized Luci, her sultry voice and the serpentine way she rolled her hips as she danced. Gabby, Meg had heard of her but had never seen her live, was a very enthusiastic and boisterous performer.

The new one, Cassie, was much more reserved at first and sang with a deep rough voice that almost seemed out of place, but Meg couldn’t keep her eyes off the shimmer of that blue sequin dress and the draw of blue eyes when Cassie looked out at the audience. Her eyes were painted in tiered layers of orange and gold that made the blue pop. Once Cassie got into the routine, there was a sort of mysterious allure to her.

Oddly enough, Meg thought she looked almost familiar. But Meg didn’t even come to enough shows here to know all the regulars, much less recognize one of the people that worked back stage.

The show was great. It was better than great, and by the end Meg had completely forgotten about that whiny pissbaby Clarence. No, all her thoughts currently were focused on the curve of Cassie’s ass flexing under that tight sequined dress. When the lights came back up on the floor, Ruby started pulling her to the back stage door. She and Sam were going to congratulate Luci on another excellent show, and wanted to introduce Meg.

Meg could certainly go along with that, although what she really wanted to get introduced do was wobbling off stage on slightly unsteady heels. Meg prayed to whatever bacchanal god might listen that Cassie was bisexual.

When they got backstage, the little group converging in a tight hall as Sam caught up to Luci and swept her up in an eager hug, Meg couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew Cassie. On the fringe of the group, looking at her profile, the straight perfect line of her nose and the strong cut of her jaw, Meg was getting annoyed at dredging up the association from her mind. It didn’t click until Cassie turned towards her, scarlet painted lips widening in an ‘o’ of surprise.

"Holy shit, Clarence?!"

"Meg?"

Castiel, Cassie, goddamit she was stupid. Meg wanted to make some snarky comment about how much of a jackass he was, or about getting that stick out of his ass, but the flush cheeked flustered drag queen in front of Meg was nothing like the prissy seamstress she knew. And not just because of the make up, his body language was like it was from a completely different person.

Despite that, Meg didn’t quite mean to say what came out of her mouth next, “You’ve got a banging ass in that dress.”

-

The show had gone quite a lot better than Castiel had anticipated. His nerves had given way to a giddy excitement, and he couldn’t help sharing the infectious energy that Luci and Gabby exuded. Although his feet ached from the unfamiliar shoes, and he still couldn’t feel his scrotum, Castiel was flushed with success and pleased with the applause that followed them off stage.

Lucifer’s boyfriend, Sam, accosted them backstage before they’d even gotten to the dressing room, and they all stood clustered in the hallway babbling excitedly. Gabriel was going to throw a party at his apartment, and decided everyone should file on over there right now to get drunk and make merry.

Sam’s girlfriend, Ruby, had brought another friend of hers back stage. Castiel wondered if the trio had become a foursome, if this girl was a girlfriend of Ruby’s. He turned away from the group, and recognized her immediately. The head make up artist from the Weathervane. Who couldn’t be bothered to procure better make up to prevent stains on the costume’s that Castiel slaved over, or even remember his name correctly.

Meg.

Castiel blinked, hands loose at his side, taken off guard by the compliment he squinted at her.

"Uh… thank you."

Meg. She’s infuriatingly haughty and abrasive. Castiel is not sure how long he can keep his job at Weathervane if he has to continue dealing with her. Honestly, he’s well aware that she most likely doesn’t have the budget for high end cosmetics, and how much the actors sweat under the lights isn’t something she can directly affect, and he shouldn’t be quite so mad at her as he usually is. But the first mere polite mention of the issue had ignited a raging debate between them. And he is not going to be the first to back down.

Sometimes, he thinks, she likes fighting with him. And as strange as it is, he finds her fierce attitude to be as infuriatingly alluring as the cleavage she always flashes with her low cut shirts.

This is not good.

Castiel grabs her by the wrist and tugs her down the hall away from the group when eyes are turned away from them, ducking into the wardrobe room.

"Meg, what are you doing here?"

She pulled her hand away from him after the door had closed behind them, the small confines of the dressing room smelling like perfume and make up, a feather boa on a hook near the door looking like it’s about to swallow Meg.

"Ruby’s my friend. Hey, look, I get it if you want to keep this a secret or something."

That was unexpected.

"No, it’s - I don’t particularly care what people think my proclivities are. I was, surprised to see you here."

"I come around every now and then. I’ve caught a few of Luci’s shows."

Meg shrugged, the thin strap of her very small dress slipping down her shoulder. Castiel wondered how she remained standing in those heels. He was distracted when she kept talking, “Do you make the dresses here too?”

"Yes. Some. I made Luci’s dress for this evening."

Meg stepped closer to him, heels bumping. She lifted a hand to brush against the collar of his blue sequin dress. “Did you make this one?”

"Ah, I altered it for Bailey, and made a few changes for myself."

"I like it. It suits you.”

"Thank you. You look lovely as well tonight. Though, you usually do."

Her red painted lips curved up, lascivious and hungry. She stepped closer, slotting her feet next to his, the sequins on his dress crinkling as her hand slid down his side. “You tryin’ to tell me I got a banging ass, too, Cas?”

His hands found their way to her shoulders, skin bare and smooth, warm to the touch. Brushing a curl of hair behind her ear, he rested his hand against her neck. Her lips were barely parted, hips shifted forward against him. Castiel decided that he very much wanted to have sex with her, and quite possibly that would either ease whatever tension had been between them or make it irreversibly worse.

Running his hands down her slender arms, Castiel dipped them underneath to fit to her curvy hips, gripping against the soft material of her black dress. Moving suddenly, he pushed her back against the door and pressed his body to hers, tipping his head forward to kiss her. There was certainly an acerbic comment poised on her lips, but he closed his mouth over hers, feeling her tongue pushing against him immediately, devouring him, teeth on his lips.

Well, that was certainly an effective means of getting her to stop talking. Castiel would have to remember that.

Tugging at the slinky material, he pulled her dress up to her waist as Meg’s nimble hands undid the zipper of his dress, the straps falling down his arms, baring the plain black bra and silicone cleavage. Meg smiled against his rough kisses and ground her hips up against him.

Castiel twisted them around, arms circling her, dragging her over to the dressing table as he kicked his shoes off, hoisting her up onto the edge. Meg was pulling his dress up, tight around his waist, the slit up the side easily pulled aside. She tugged at the layers of shapewear and panty hose, Castiel pushing them down with her, fingers tangling and nails ripping the delicate fabric.

With both their dresses pulled up and bunched around their waists, Castiel slipped a hand between her legs, her vulva bare and radiating heat, slick against the tips of his fingers. She wasn’t even wearing panties in that tiny little dress. It was absurd. Yet he had no end of layers. Meg giggled and ripped at the tape that had him tucked.

"You know I’ve been wondering just how much you were hiding under here all night."

Castiel scowled, gripping and ripping his little underwear and tape confinement quite happily.

"Oh, ah, I was afraid I’d lost sensation there."

Meg kneaded at his rapidly swelling cock, fingers curling under his balls and cupping, palm pressing against him.

"Take the wig off."

It was far more complicated than he anticipated, bobby pins tumbling down on the floor with a little chiming noises, as he neatly set the wig aside on the dresser knowing that Gabriel would hurt him if the wig did not survive in tact.

Meg clutched at his shoulders, rubbing up against his erection, her fingers tangling through his messy hair and plucking out bobby pins. Castiel tugged down the shoulder straps of her dress and pushed his fingers into the cup of her bra to fold and pull it well enough to expose her, rolling pert nipples between the pads of his fingers. His own silicone breasts worked their way free of his bra in the tussling tangle of limbs and adjustment of clothes. Dress rucked up, make up smudged, bra empty, panty hose digging in to his thighs, Castiel stopped abruptly.

"Dammit, do you have a condom?"

-

Meg laughed, mouth open against the side of his neck sucking a bruise in the crook of it. She flailed her hand out over the contents on the dresser next to her, certain she’d tossed her little black clutch here at some point between making out against the door and running her fingers through his sweaty hair. She found her target, pulling off his neck and twisting in his grasp to open her clutch and dig out the condom stashed there.

“Aha!”

Cas was a wreck, dress twisted around him, make up starting to streak, hair spiked up everywhere. He was gorgeous. Whoever had done his make up did an excellent job, defining the contours of his cheekbones and setting off the hue of his eyes. Meg may have been staring, when Castiel took the condom from her and started rolling it down his cock.

Fuck, he had a nice cock, thick and straight and beading pre come already. As soon as the condom was rolled down to the base, he splayed his hands on her hips and thrust in till their bodies were flush. Meg shuddered and curled forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, pressing her face to his neck. She could feel his muscles ripple under her hands, strong shoulders, defined arms, that were usually hidden away under the stuffy button downs he always wore.

In the bright yellow light of the dressing room, Meg didn’t think she’d ever seen a mess as tempting as Cas. Leaning back against the mirror, little bottles of make up clattering as she knocked them over, Meg gripped onto his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. The sequins on his dress chaffed against the soft skin of her thighs, scratching and harsh, but she couldn’t care if she had a rash tomorrow. He snapped his hips with a brutal rhythm that jostled the desk and had Meg panting trying to hold back a scream.

His stare was intense, watching her the entire time, eyes surrounded in gold and so wide with adoration or lust or something but they wouldn’t look away. Meg couldn’t look away. It had escalated so quick but she was already close, heat flushed under her skin and perspiration trickling down her spine. Then he stiffened and shoved deep, hands gripping tight enough to hurt, mouth fallen slack.

Fuck, had that even been a minute? Meg panted, and she definitely did not whimper, pushing messy hair back from her face.

Castiel’s shoulders slumped, and he paused to catch his breath. “I … ah …. sorry, it’s been a while.”

Meg patted his cheek. “That was pretty good.”

“Pretty good?”, he arched one finely drawn eye brow at her.

Her head knocked back against the mirror. So fucking close.

Cas pulled out, tugging the condom off and tying it to toss in a waste basket nearby. Meg shuffled to the edge of the desk to hop off, but then he was dropping to his knees in front of her shoving between her legs.

“Oh Jesus!”

Legs slung over his shoulders, Cas’ arms curled under her thighs to pull her down by the hips, he sloppily, wholeheartedly applied himself to eating her out. Meg juddered when his tongue found her clit, laving at her while he stroked the back of a thigh and moved his hand down with his mouth, pushing his fingers inside. Mouth sealing around her clit, fingers stroking inside and twisting, pumping, curling against that sweet spot, Meg dug her fingers into his hair and held on.

Curled over his head, shaking, Meg ground against his face and took deep shuddering breaths, feeling the swell of pleasure pulse closer again. Moving a hand to grip tight to the edge of the dresser, little shoves of her pelvis adjusted higher, lower, Cas kept up a furious pace until Meg came hot and wet, squirting against his face with the insistent nudge of his fingers deep inside while he rolled her clit between his teeth.

She fell back against the dresser mirror, trembling and blissed out at the unexpected talent display. “Holy shit.”

Cas swiped the back of his hand against his face. “You’re a squirter.”

“Not usually. Sorry I didn’t warn you, most guys don’t get that out of me.”

“So that was … more than pretty good?”

“Shit that was fucking fantastic.”

Cas pushed himself up off the floor, swaying a little, his lips curled up in a smile that suited his face a lot better than the scowl she usually saw on him. Her come looked good wet on his chin and smearing his make up too. Meg leaned forward, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling against his chest.

He pushed his fingers through her hair, hands wandering to cup her breast then slide over her shoulders and down her waist. She really wanted to curl up in a comfortable bed with him and a gallon of ice cream.

He kissed the top of her head. “There’s an after party at Gabe’s. I wasn’t thinking of going, but if you’d like to…”

“Honestly, you fucked me stupid, I’d rather go to bed.”

“All right.”

“It’d be pretty cool if it was your bed.”

“I’d like that.”

Meg pulled back, tugging the sleeves of his dress up and hoping it wasn’t ripped anywhere. Then she saw the smudges of make-up, probably both of theirs, on the collar of it.

“Shit. We got make up on your dress.”


End file.
